21
by Evilmiko21
Summary: A brief encounter with Harry Potter in Diagon Alley leaves Draco Malfoy feebly trying to heal the wounds inflicted on his broken heart, and drown the memories of a school year when love meant absolutely everything. Drarry. Slash.
1. Rolling in the Deep

****Disclaimer:****Harry Potter does not belong to me. All rights belong to their proper owners such as the magnificent JK Rowling and Warner Bros for their fantastic films. Furthermore, 21 and the songs and lyrics found on this album do not belong to me either. They belong to Adele and whoever else gets rights to the album, song, and lyrics. I do not make a profit off of this, and refuse to. This is purely for entertainment purposes only.

****Notes on the Story: ****21 is set after the War. Epilogue compliant. Slash. Drarry. Some het like Harry/Ginny and Draco/Astoria. Currently un-beta'ed. So I need a beta. After the prologue there will be 10 chapters. Some of the info might not exactly fit the books. The story starts when Scorpius is 11 years old right before the train ride to Hogwarts. So school hasn't started yet. Oh, and the prologue gives a back drop so not much happens but trust me, it'll get better and there'll be more raunchy man on man action soon. I plan on finishing this before summer is over and I attempt to gain a life.

****Summary:****A brief encounter with Harry Potter in Diagon Alley leaves Draco Malfoy feebly trying to heal the wounds inflicted on his broken heart, and drown the memories of a school year when love meant _absolutely everything._

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><p><strong>Prologue: Rolling In the Deep <strong>

_"_The scars of your love remind me of us  
>They keep me thinking that we almost had it all<br>The scars of your love, they leave me breathless  
>I can't help feeling<br>...__

__We could have had it all  
>Rolling in the deep<br>You had my heart inside of your hand  
>But you played it with a beating"<em>_

__-Adele__

Draco Malfoy frowned as he waited for his son in Madame Malkins Robes for All Occasions. His patience was wearing thin, having been slowly worn down as Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy excitedly made his way through Diagon Alley buying scrolls, quills, ink, text books, and other academic necessities for his first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The trip to Ollivanders had been particularly draining, but after a shattered mirror and many scrambled wands later, Draco bought a wand for his beloved son. Made with birch, 11 inches long with a dragon heart string core.

Afterward, the Malfoy men found themselves stopping inside Honeydukes, and a few hours and several chocolate frogs later, father and son made their way to Madame Malkins. Draco watched as Madame Malkins personally measured Scorpius, a quill hovering in the air taking down notes that the proprietor mumbled. Madame Malkins smiled, signalling that she had finished, and Scorpius grumbled as he made his way to his father. Draco arranged for the robes to be sent to the manor the day before Scorpius went off to Hogwarts, paid, and lead his son outside of the shop.

"Father," Scorpius tugged at the end of his father's sleeve, "I'm hungry." Draco gave a terse nod of acknowledgement, and began walking to a less crowded place for apparition. The crowd was ruthless, trying its best to swallow the Malfoy men whole while at the same time trying to separate them. Scorpius kept a firm grip on his father's robe. Draco kept a steady eye on his destination, a little corner not too far away devoid of the hustling and bustling crowd. And that's when he saw him.

A mop of familiar black hair. Dishevelled. Hairs sticking out every which way. And beneath the most brilliant gleam of emerald that Draco had ever seen. Draco stilled, his body tense, as he watched Harry Potter walk away. Harry, who smiled and laughed in the distance. Harry, who had found happiness in the 13 or so odd years since their separation. Draco's heart ached.

"Father," Scorpius once again tugged at the end of his father's sleeve. His father had stopped in the middle of the road, and witches and wizards rudely shoved passed them on their way to their destination. Draco made no response. It took all of his willpower to not chase after the former Griffyndor seeker, and with a grunt he grabbed Scorpius's hand and apparated into Malfoy Manor – intent on getting as far away from those haunting green eyes as possible.

Scorpius did not question his father when they arrived back at the mansion. He simply muttered words of thanks, collected his things, and made his way to his room. He knew better than to ask. He knew that some things were better left unsaid. And other things better left forgotten.

Draco watched his son go. He watched the future of the Malfoy family walk away, and he couldn't help the pride that welled up in his heart as he did so. There had been a time when there had been no chance of a future, when the idea of continuing the Malfoy line was completely impossible. But time moves on, people change, and love... Love goes away. But when Scorpius was born, when Draco Malfoy held his small, fragile, newly born child in his arms, love found its way back. And Draco knew as he watched his 11 year old child disappear that without Scorpius the pain he kept hidden away would've been unbearable. Scorpius was the reason Draco was alive. Scorpius was Draco's love. Scorpius was Draco's happiness. Not an untamed mop of black hair and shining emerald eyes. No. Not anymore.

With meaningful strides, Draco made his way to his study, spelling the door closed behind him.

"Bibby," Draco calls, and with a snap a house elf appears in a white rag tied across its waist.

"Yes, Master Malfoy, sir" Bibby keeps her head bent low.

"I am to be left undisturbed for the rest of the night. Absolutely no exceptions," Draco orders.

"Yes, Master Malfoy, sir," Bibby replies, and with a snap is gone.

Draco sighs, and pours himself a cup of Blishen's Firewhiskey, before sinking into a leather chair. He knows that he needs the firewhiskey tonight. He needs to feel the burn of alcohol in his drunken state. He welcomed the burning sensation in fact, welcomed it more than the pain from scars left by a lost love. And Draco knows that besides the burn, he needed courage. Courage to deal with emotions and memories that he long ago buried. Memories of two boys in school. Of secret meetings, and hushed words. Words like forever, and always. And of emotions like happiness, and love. Tonight, he needs to forget. Forget the school year, so long ago, when love had meant absolutely everything. When a mop of unruly ebony hair, and shimmering emerald eyes had meant the world and so much more. Forget the time, when they almost had it all.

Draco sighs again, finishing off his first glass of firewhiskey and pouring himself another. Tonight, he will finish the bottle. He knows it. Just as he once knew of a boy whose smile would make the rest of the world disappear. Just as he knows that the memories of the very same boy will assault him tonight, and will not stop. And just as surely, Draco knows that Harry Potter will always have his heart. Because Harry Potter was much more than the Boy Who Lived. Harry Potter was the Boy Who Loved Draco, and the Boy Who Left.

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><p><strong>Author's Notes: <strong>I hope you enjoyed it. I know I'll enjoy writing it.


	2. Rumour Has It

****Author's Note:**** The stuff that occurs in Hogwarts in noncanon. OOC-ness. Sorry. And also, my beta hasn't replied with an edit of this so there may still be some errors. I'm sorry about that, and also for the length. I'm working on the second chapter right now, and I'm trying my hardest to make it lengthier for your reading enjoyment. But this is longer than the prologue so yay! for that.

****Special thanks to luck-life, bthatcher2002, elf warrior princess, and Mindless Symphony.****

::::: means change to a different time period. So from the past to the present or vice versa.

000 means change within the same time period. So past to past. May just be a change in location.

**Disclaimer:** See Prologue.

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><p><strong>Chapter One: Rumour Has It<strong>__

_"_Now rumour has it she ain't got your love anymore  
><em>__You made my heart melt, yet I'm cold to the core,  
><em>_But rumour has it I'm the one you're leaving her for"  
><em>_– ___Adele__

Draco Malfoy smirked at the dinner table. Ginny Weasley and Harry Potter were in a rather vicious, and public argument. Apparently The Boy Who Lived was also The Boy Who Lied, but more importantly The Boy Who Cheated. The Great Hall was silent as students from all 4 houses looked on enthralled. Even the teachers looked on in poorly hidden fascination.

"Was she good Harry?" Ginny yelled. "She must have been." Harry didn't answer.

"No answer? Perhaps, she isn't as good as I thought she was. After all, how good can trash be?" Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up in anger. Trash? A Malfoy? Trash? Never. He waited for Harry to defend him. He waited for Harry to do something, say something. But all Draco heard was the She Weasel.

"So, how long have you been dirtying yourself with trash, Harry? A week? A month? Since the beginning of the school year?" Draco saw Harry physically flinch. He saw Harry bite his lip. He saw Harry continue to do nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that hurt more than any insults the She Weasel could ever say.

"I'm sorry Ginny," Harry whispered at long last, his voice amplified by the silence of the Great Hall. "Really." Ginny didn't reply.

"I'm so fucking sorry Ginny," Harry repeated. His green eyes seemed on the verge of tears as he apologized to his long time girlfriend. Ginny inhaled deeply. The students in the Great Hall watched with bated breath, waiting for the next move.

Ginny slapped Harry on the cheek in reply, and stormed out of the Great Hall, the sound of flesh meeting flesh reverberating off the walls. Draco daintily bit onto a piece of apple pie to suppress his scowl at someone hurting Harry. _His Harry. _All anger at Harry's silence nearly forgotten at the sight of a red hand on Harry's cheek.

"Ginny," the Weasel called after his younger sister, glaring at his best mate as he chased after her. The Mud Blood followed suit, promising Harry a stern talking to later. Draco watched Harry sigh, and slump into his seat. His cheek was still red from the attack, a frown marred his countenance, but his beautiful emerald eyes shimmered in the distance. Again, Draco took another bite of his apple pie. Waiting.

Another bite of his apple pie. A sip of pumpkin juice. A slight dab at his lips to wipe off any excess liquid or crumbs. And his waiting paid off. Across the hall, Harry Potter glanced at Draco Malfoy. Draco had to suppress the shiver the eye contact elicited. Harry's frown deepened, and Draco took another bite of his apple pie to hide the ache in his chest. Harry, then got up, and left. Draco followed the fading figure with his eyes, only to be shocked when an elbow nudged him in the chest.

The Great Hall came to life, abuzz with gossip. Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws guessed the identity of Harry's supposed secret lover. Who was the lucky witch? Was she younger or the same age as the Boy Wonder? Which house was she in? Was she pretty? Smart? Did she play Quidditch? How long had Harry been cheating? Even Slytherins were compelled to remark on the scandal that just occurred.

"Guess, Golden Boy ain't so golden, huh?" Crabbe snickered, grabbing another cinnamon roll.

"Who would've known he had it in him?" Blaise Zabini questioned, joining in on Crabbe and Goyle's laughter.

"I hope his taste in women has improved," Goyle added.

"Anyone would be an improvement over a Weasley," Draco replied dryly. The other Slytherins agreed, their laughter increasing in volume.

"Do you think that Harry Potter will go public with her?" Pansy asked, popping a strawberry into her mouth. Draco felt his heart clench. Would Harry go public about his secret relationship? No. Of course not. Draco knew that Harry's Gryffindor bravery didn't extend that far.

"Do you think he actually loves her? Or is she just one of many? An outlet for sexual tension?" Pansy continued to ask, thinking out loud. Draco once again felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle in anger. Draco Malfoy was not just another notch on Harry's bedpost. He was the only notch on Harry bedpost. Draco Malfoy was sure of that.

"Who would be daft enough to engage in a sexual relationship with Potter?" Draco wrinkled his nose in feigned disgust.

"I definitely wouldn't mind," Pansy answered licking her lips. Draco scowled.

"He has a nice arse. I wouldn't be adverse to a one off," Blaise quipped, and Draco felt his scowl deepen. How many times did he have to say it? Harry Potter was his. _Especially that tight arse of his. _

"Or even a more permanent arrangement, if I could manage," Blaise's eyes filled with lust, and it took all of Draco's will power to not to hex his housemate with the Stinging Hex.

"Ugh, how can you imagine dirtying yourself with a Gryffindork?" Draco drawled, biting into his last piece of apple pie. He wiped his mouth clean, and tossed it carelessly on the table.

"They aren't so bad," Draco followed Blaise's eyes hungrily devour one of the many Gryffindors at the opposite end of the hall.

"They're disgusting," Draco sneered. Excluding Harry, of course.

"Anyhow, speaking of sex and secret relationships, who's the lucky witch you've been fooling around with, eh Draco," Blaise smirked. Pansy scowled. Crabbe and Goyle continued to eat, all though it was painfully obvious that they were waiting for Draco's answer. "Or witches?"

"None of your business Zabini," Draco snapped.

"She must be awfully good in bed. You've been seeing her since the end of November," Zabini continued.

"That's awfully long for you Draco," Pansy whispered, most likely recalling the 2 or 3 nights when Draco was desperately in need of a fuck because his hand certainly wasn't doing a satisfying job. Pansy was there, had offered, and Draco was horny. Draco would never repeat that ghastly mistake again. "You normally don't let it last longer than 3 days, if they're lucky."

"Malfoy's a cold hearted bastard," Zabini comforted. Crabbe and Goyle grunted in agreement.

"I can do whatever the bloody hell I want to," Draco snorted, miffed that his lackies were ganging up on him. Fucking Zabini. He'd pay for this later. "Whenever I want to."

"Of course, you can. You're gorgeous," Blaise replied slyly, winking. Draco had to suppress a shudder at the sight.

"Your jokes are so plebeian Zabini." Draco sent a condescending glare at the four Slytherins. " Anyways, I'll be up in my room, working on that essay due to Snape tomorrow. Keep yourselves scarce," Draco ordered, as he got up and walked out of the Great Hall and into his room in the dungeons.

000

He was not surprised to find Harry Potter in his room. But he was surprised to find Harry weeping, clutching at one of Draco's pillows. He felt his heart melt at the sight. He pointed his wand at the door, muttered a strong locking charm, and made his way his to his lover. No one else would witness Harry vulnerable like this. This, this was for Draco's eyes only. Because, odd as the idea seemed, Harry felt safe in the Slytherin's presence. Harry felt like he didn't have to pretend to be The Chosen One. Harry didn't have to pretend to be strong, and brave. In Draco's presence, Harry was simply Harry. And in return Draco would comfort him, and allay any fears. Because in Harry's presence, Draco was simply Draco. And that was enough.

"Harry, are you alright?" Draco, slipped in beside Harry, and wrapped his arms around the shaking boy.

"They hate me now," Harry whispered, as he turned to bury his face in the crook of Draco's neck.

"Harry..."

"I understand that they're upset. I do. But Ron refuses to talk to me, and 'Mione keeps glaring at me. It hurts Draco. So much," Harry buried his face impossibly closer. "I couldn't stand it if they left me too."

Draco tightened his arms around the smaller boy, "They're just a Weasley and a Mudblood, Harry. Honestly, I don't know why you continue to associate with such filth."

Harry stiffened in his arms.

"Because they're the closest thing I have ever had to a family, you large prick," the tears were gone now, replaced by a fiery anger that caused green eyes to blaze. Draco felt his prick respond in kind, and he suppressed the hurt that welled up in his chest as Harry defended his friends when Harry hadn't even defended him earlier.

"Yes, I know my prick is quite large, Potter. You didn't have to remind me," Draco drawled, reigning in his lust He allowed his hand to ghost across Harry's chest, but the ebony haired boy pushed him away.

"Fuck you, you insensitive bastard," Harry responded, moving off the bed.

"As much, as I enjoy you fucking me, Harry. I'd much rather fuck you instead," Draco licked his lips lasciviously, as he advanced towards the other boy.

"God, Malfoy sometimes I wonder if this is worth it. If you're worth it," Harry snapped, glaring at Draco. "Times like these make me think you aren't." Draco read the silent plea in green eyes._ Comfort me. Help me forget._ Draco nodded in silent agreement as he continued to advance towards the dark haired boy. It didn't matter that Harry hadn't defended him to the She Weasel earlier. No, it didn't matter because Draco didn't need to be protected. But foolhardy Harry, always dashing into dangerous situations without thought, needed protection. And no matter what, Draco would give Harry that. Draco would protect Harry.

"Let me prove I'm worth it then, Potter," this time Draco's voice was barely above a whisper, as he pressed himself against the other boy. He mumbled a quick Silencing Charm, before placing his wand back in his own robes. He wrapped his arms around Potter's waist in a protective gesture, and knew that he would never let the bespectacled boy with unruly ebony hair and stunning green eyes go. _Forever._

Draco brought his lips down on Harry's ear, and nibbled the flesh there before trailing soft kisses down Harry's neck. His hand found its way to Harry's belt, and Draco quickly worked to unfasten it, all the while making sure to lick, suck, and kiss on tender flesh. Harry moaned when Draco's hand made contact with his prick. And Draco smirked against Harry's smooth skin, his hand working quickly on Harry's ever hardening member. Draco slipped another hand inside Harry's robes, first squeezing and kneading Harry's arse before slipping a finger into Harry's pucker. Harry pulled Draco closer, thrusting his hips and moaning loudly. Draco continued to kiss, lick, and suck Harry's bare skin, enjoying the salty taste of sweat.

"More Draco," Harry groaned, his hands fumbling at Malfoy's robes. "Need you inside me."

Draco groaned at the sight of Harry, pulled out his wand and muttered a quick lubrication spell. His moan rivaled Harry's as he entered the dark haired boy. And soon he was thrusting into Harry, fucking him against the wall, as Harry wrapped a leg around his waist.

"Draco, don't let me regret this," Harry moaned, and Draco thrust harder, deeper, faster than before. His hand keeping up with his pace on Harry's prick, and with a loud moan Harry spilled all over the two of them. Draco soon followed. Draco didn't regret it, not a single thing. He'd make sure Harry wouldn't either. He cast a quick _Scourgify,_ before leading Harry back to bed. To comfort. To forget. To make sure there would be nothing to regret. _Always._

**:::::**

The older Draco Malfoy sighs at the memory. Perhaps, that had contributed to their downfall. Their utter lack of serious conversation. At the time, Draco had tried to ignore the Dark Mark that was on his arm. He refused to talk about his father, about the Dark Lord, about Death Eaters, and the War. Harry, too, had been reluctant. They skirted around topics, such as death, and of life after the war... An idea both students didn't believe to be possible. And sex had been a good escape, a bloody wonderful escape, actually.

When Harry writhed beneath him, when Harry kissed him, when Harry laughed and smiled, and blushed. It meant that this was real. Harry was real. Harry was tangible unlike the uncertain future that loomed ahead of them. And for that short year, they had managed to escape. Escape to a world where love really did overcome everything, where dreams came true, and the very idea of Harry and Draco together forever and always was plausible, within reach even.

And in that dream world, the two of them had set themselves up for disappointment. Harry would whisper of marriage, of a large house where every room had been thoroughly christened. Harry would describe fantastical holidays in foreign places, Seoul, Venice, Madrid. And Draco would tag along, painting summers in Provence, and winters skiing in the Alps. And Harry would grin widely, his arms flailing about as he continued to draw their future.

Draco would talk about having a family, of watching their children leave for Hogwarts for the first time, of holding their grandchildren in their arms. Because the Malfoy line must be perpetuated, Draco would mumble, and Harry would stop his asinine flailing, and reply softly. _"I love you."_ And with those three words, the spell had been cast. Harry and Draco forgot. They believed wholeheartedly in their fairytale ending, invested all their hopes and dreams in it. And for a while, they were comforted, but in the end they would regret everything.

Draco Malfoy sighs again, this time downing another glass of Firewhiskey. He is one half of the way done with the bottle, and he knows before long that he will have to grab some of the cognac in his stash. His eyes watch the flames in the fireplace dance, sensuously, dangerously. He remembers late nights with Harry, watching the light from the fireplace reflect off of emerald eyes. He remembers the momentary dark brown highlights in ebony hair that seemed in constant motion, the shadows that frolicked at the edge of his vision. He remembers Harry complaining about the cold, remembers Harry begging for Draco to provide some kind of warmth. He remembers complying. Draco is aware of the hardened cock in his pants that the memories produced, but now is not the time. He allows his free hand to rest over the cloth that covers his prick, but he refuses to massage, to touch, to rub, to create that delicious friction that would have him begging for more.

Later, he promises himself. Later, when sleepy mornings, a Gryffindor's whispered "I love you's", and quickly scrawled notes hidden in the most unusual places disappears back to the outskirts of his mind. Later, he promises, taking a sip of Firewhiskey. Later when he didn't feel so cold.

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks for reading this!<strong>


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